Daydreams and Reflexes
by SofieNoLongerExists
Summary: A very long phanfic. Rated M for language, violence, offensive views and a chapter of a sexual nature. Hmm. Phil is in Upper Sixth Form and has had a crush on his new art teacher, Mr Howell, for a long time. When things start to go wrong, what will Phil do? Be patient and you might find a twist later on. A danisnotonfire/Dan Howell and amazingphil/Phil Lester slash. Enjoy...
1. Oh piss off!

**Phil's POV- **

_*A 3m-1m sofa is £150. Bert needs 3 for a 10m-20m room. There's a 7% off sale and he has a £100 gift voucher. If Bert pays £1836 how much is he getting back with 28% cashback?* _

Oh for fucks sake. I hate maths, it's the worst. When was I ever going to use this in life? I decided to forget the question, I didn't care. I wondered what lesson I had next for a second but the thought evaporated almost immediately to be replaced with 'How could I ever forget?'

A warm glowing sensation spread through me and I smiled to myself, looking like a fool. I had art next; but not just any art lesson. Art, my favourite subject, with my favourite teacher, Mr Howell. Oh Mr Howell. He started when I first started upper sixth form, so it's only been a few

months. Our first lesson with him was so good and they've been getting better ever since. And yes, if you are wondering, I do have the biggest crush on him ever. But nobody knows, it's better that way. I daydreamed the rest of the lesson away, obviously on the topic of Mr Howell, that's the only thing you study in my kind of school. When the bell went for next lesson I don't think I could have left the classroom faster.

As usual, I was first there, but again as usual I forgot to knock before coming into the studio. Mr Howell was sitting there looking perfect, marking some work. His skin glowed the colour of syrup in the sunlight streaming through the wide windows at the side of the room. His hair the colour of chocolate, rich dark and sexy, swept to his left side perfectly. He obviously didn't wear normal teacher's clothes because he wasn't a normal teacher. Well they probably were normal teacher clothes, but he pulled them off so well it didn't seem like it. He wore a fitted white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a few bright specks of paint on it, a thin black tie and black skinny jeans, but they were hidden under his desk.

As he heard me come in his big almond eyes with the colouring so dark it merged with his pupils shot up through his big, thick-rimmed yet fashionable glasses, in shock.

'Phil! You know you're meant to knock before coming in!'

'Sorry Sir, I forgot!' my face contorted into worry.

He laughed his adorable half-laugh.

'Well don't forget next time! Had a good day so far?'

He said it with completely genuine interest, one of his best qualities in my opinion; he doesn't treat you like a student, but a friend. He took off his glasses and got up, rearranging menial things on his desk.

'No. Physics made my brain freeze, French was illiterate and Maths was impossible. Terrible so far.'

He did his proper full laugh, even more adorable than his half laugh.

'Well at least if you fail at everything you can entertain me.' He smiled, but as he realised what he said he quickly added,

'Not that you'll fail at everything, you have me for art!'

'Obviously I won't fail for art sir! You're the best artist I've seen.'

'Thank you Phil, but have you been paying attention in your art history lessons? You may think I'm good but you studied Da Vinci last term and I don't exactly match up.'

'Of course I don't pay attention! I daydream about yo-'

'Sorry?'

'I err- daydream about actually drawing!'

I smiled while saying that so it didn't seem so harsh.

'Haha! Well if it were up to me Phil you'd be drawing non-stop, you're a great artist, you could definitely make a living from it. But I have to follow government guidelines, so you've got to keep up your history!'

'Really? You seriously think I could make a living from my art?'

'Yes, I do.'

He smiled, his features filled with warmth, kindness and… lust? I felt my heart quicken. I heard a slam. Our bubble burst too soon.

'Hi Rhys, you're lucky Phil's already here, otherwise I'd of have to remind you about knocking if you're first.'

Rhys, the most popular guy in my year, yet also the biggest dickhead. He'd already almost been a father, been on Jeremy Kyle, and been arrested 5 times. There's always one.

'Phil's always already 'ere first…'

He muttered it quietly so that only I could hear. I gave the back of his head a quick glare, without noticing Mr Howell walking up the aisle between the tables, handing out sketchbooks. He whispered playfully into my ear.

'If looks could kill…'

He snickered and winked when I looked back at him. I imploded inside and that little voice inside my head screamed _*what is air?!*_. It took all my strength not to start fanning myself with stupidly flamboyant flaps.

As more people filed in, chatting and laughing, I sat at my place alone. All of my friends had gone to college or university because they could afford it. I got fired from every job I had from the amount I daydreamed, and my parents thought it was morally wrong to lend their son money for education, that he should learn the hard way. They didn't even let me take out a loan. Hmm.

'Okay class settle down. We're starting a new course today!'

I loved how my mind always shut up and starting paying attention as soon as Mr Howell started to speak, it was like… a reflex. I didn't really mind what our new course was about, as long as Mr Howell taught it.

'Our new course is cartoons and animation. Your coursework it to produce a short cartoon, made by yourself obviously, about 3-5 minutes long. Can anyone name any types of cartoon?'

'Pixar?'

Eugh, Rhys was so immensely stupid it was painful. Pixar isn't a style of cartoon! I felt like screaming.

'Err, no Rhys, Pixar is an animation company. Not a style of cartoon. Anyone else? How about you, Phil?'

As he said my name a lump grew in my throat. I loved how he said my name, I usually hated it, but he made it sound special and perfect. I knew my popularity wouldn't grow anymore with my answer, it'd probably shrink, but I didn't care. Mr Howell would approve.

'Anime and manga?'

I heard Rhys and his mates snigger.

'Yes! They're very good examples! Can you explain to me the difference?'

'Anime is Japanese animation but manga is a Japanese art style, like in manga books, but they're not comics because they are read right to left, not left to right.'

'Exactly! Very good answer Phil, very impressed! Now does anyone else…'

That's the point where I drifted off into a helpless daydream, imagining Mr Howell and I as manga characters. I picked and chose everything very carefully so we were both perfect. Mr Howell always said if you had an idea for a drawing, even if it wasn't that good, we should put it on paper. I flicked to a fresh page in my sketchbook and picked up my pencil. It flew across the page, copying my mind perfectly, and soon a sketchy manga me and manga Mr Howell were in reality.

Everyone was working away now. Mr Howell must have given the task and I'd missed it. He wouldn't mind, I catch up quickly in his lessons. I worked more on the two characters, detailing them and colouring them softly. I'd almost finished the pair perfectly, when I felt eyes on me.

My eyes shot up straight into Mr Howell's, and I jumped slightly in shock. Everyone was chatting while working, so they wouldn't notice us.

'Sir! Um, hi.'

'Hi Phil. What have we here?'

He leant in close to get a better look. His hair accidently brushed together with mine. What I felt of him was warm, soft, beautiful…

I looked up quickly, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

'Sorry! I didn't mean to…'

'No that's okay! Um,'

'So these are?'

He said, looking back at the drawing.

'Manga characters.'

He looked closer, peering at manga Phil, then manga Mr Howell.

'That one looks an awful lot like you. And that one looks like me…'

'Err, yes they are. I can't draw anyone sitting down, and you were the only one standing up.'

'They're really good. Really really good. I would ask you to do the actual work, but do you think you could do them in a tonal drawing? Just pencil. Please?'

'Um, yeah okay.'

I didn't know why he wanted that, but I'd do it anyway, it was like he was giving me a license to procrastinate. He gave me a cute, gentle smile that made him look like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, beautifully innocent. Then he gave me a quick wink, so quick I couldn't quite remember if it actually happened, and as that butter in his mouth hurriedly melted I did too.

He walked on, looking briefly at the others work. Rhys, who sat one column left of me and one row forward starting coughing. I know it's a strong word, but I really do hate him. So as usual, when you hate someone that much even when they breathe loudly you get annoyed. His incessant coughing infuriated me. Until I heard him through the coughs.

'Gay *cough* gay *cough cough* gay…'

My head shot down to my work so fast I nearly bumped my head on the table. I could feel my cheeks flushing and my eyes pricking. I knew what was happening. I wasn't so invisible anymore. Seconds later I realised why.

_I just lost control, _

_I just wanted you to know,_

_That when I'm on my own,_

_I feel invisible._

_I just lost control,_

_I just needed you to know,_

_That when in front of you,_

_I feel invincible._

You Me At Six, Little bit of Truth. And it sure was true. When I was alone, I was invisible to them because they had nothing to tease, nothing to pick fun on, because I had my guard up. But Mr Howell was my *you*. I did feel invincible with him around, I let my guard down when he was around. Rhys had caught me off-guard and he knew it.

A single tear splashed onto the paper, giving manga Phil a worryingly large lump on the side of his stomach as the still fresh coloured graphite mushed into the salty liquid.

'Aw beby, don't cwry, muma's 'ere- oh no, muma's too busy fuckin'.'

Everyone knew I was the oldest of lots of siblings but it'd never been a problem before.

Rhys' teasing whisper sent quiet sniggers around the class, and both manga Phil and manga Mr Howell got several more worrying lumps around their bodies. Then I felt the burn of a stare on me again.

A girl, pretty, pale, with curly brown hair and glasses was looking at me, her arm stretched with a tissue in her palm. She wasn't sniggering. I knew her as Merley, a quiet girl who was very good at art, had a small but close group of friends and liked tea, but always seemed to avoid the popular crowd's radar somehow. She looked at me with genuine concern. I shook my head in dismissal of the tissue, but smiled gratefully, and she nodded understandingly.

'Ooh, Phil's go'a girlfriend too, dir'y li'le slut. Daddy wouldn' be very proud of his slutty camp li'le dicks an' rainbow lovin' bummer son naa would 'e?'

'Oh piss off Rhys, you homophobic crackhead man-whore, you don't even know who your dad is. I'm guessing he was just as much of an arse-hole as you.'

In that moment I realised that Merley wasn't just quiet. She was that quiet one who had the best comebacks when you pissed her off. I laughed, looking back at her beaming. She gave me a small smile while shrugging, then went back to her work quietly. I decided I should talk to her someday, she seemed really nice, a good friend too.

Rhys wasn't impressed. He didn't have a comeback.

I looked around for Mr Howell, he would have heard everything! I guess I'd just have to face it then. Mr Howell walked out of the storage cupboard, completely unaware of what just happened. I swear to god if my life was a movie there'd be church bells and happy music god damn everywhere right now.

**Like it so far? I hope you don't know anyone called Rhys! Thanks and a shoutout to my best friend Merley for letting me turn her into the sassy bitch Dan's not really going to be in this story and helping me with it. All credit for the song Little Bit of Truth goes to You Me At Six, I own nothing apart from one of the many many CD's. Bye for now, Sofie-Rose xxx**


	2. Nope, you've gone Irish

**Dan's POV**

'Rhys is so difficult, why can't he just be good and get on with school like everyone else?!'

I stood with my cup of tea absent-mindedly listening to the conversation I was supposed to be involved with. Lucia did enjoy complaining about Rhys, I have to admit. The staff room, a dull, boring beige, was decorated with seemingly radioactive coloured posters, bright pink, bright yellow, bright orange, all trying and failing to express how fun and exciting extra-curricular clubs would be, or how important it was to be reminded of the student duty rotas.

The three other teachers that sat on the uncomfortable, eye-offending, 70's style armchairs were deep in conversation about various pupils in the sixth form, mostly complaining, because that's honestly what the British do all the time. I leant against the worktop, sipping almost constantly, listening in on their thoughts.

'I know, it's his friends. If they weren't there with him in every lesson he would be so bad. But his friends are everywhere, it's like a virus.'

Miss Natalie O'Donnell. The only psychology teacher in the school, who had the smallest social life of them all; in fact none at all. She analysed everything psychologically as she'd been teaching so long. The governors always gave her a pay rise when she asked, there were no psychologists for miles that were prepared to teach 16-18 year olds.

'He's an attention seeker. That's it.'

Mr Liam Whitehead. The only other art teacher for sixth form and fortunately my boss. The other head of art, Mrs Reid, is a bitch, and anyone in art who has Liam as their boss considers themselves lucky. His voice had a deep American accent, as he'd been born and raised in California. We were friends though, and I always made fun of him when my class got higher results than his own. Some girls who took art only did for Liam and never paid attention if they got him. I must admit he is extremely attractive, but not my type at all.

'But moving on…'

He didn't like bad conversations, he'd sip his coffee then quickly move on.

'Merl-… That Merley girl in your class Dan, her arts looking good.'

'Err, yes, she's doing well. She and Phil have already finished their coursework so I need to give them some extension…'

I drifted off towards the end, I hope they didn't notice. Was it bad I was crushing on one of my students? He was 17 and I was 23, six years wasn't completely morally wrong. A small thought squirmed at the back of my head.

_You're his teacher. That's morally wrong._

I ignored it. I thought of our moment the week before. I honestly didn't mean to brush my hair against his. But I did. It was beautiful. He didn't pull away straight away. Does that mean he liked it? Does he crush on me? Don't be stupid Dan, he's your student. But when I was in the storage cupboard. I still heard Rhys saying gay through his coughing fit. Was that directed to me? It can't have been, Merley said something. Merley doesn't usually speak. Maybe she just doesn't like homophobia. But lots of people don't, and they wouldn't have spoken up. No. She must have seen that someone was upset. Rhys used 'gay' so he must have meant a guy. He would've used something different for a girl… There weren't many guys in my class, it was art. He wouldn't have said it to his many friends, and the others seemed straight, apart from… Phil. And he threw his manga in the bin at the end of the lesson. When I took it out and looked there were water stains ruining it. Oh shit Dan, you've been so stupid! Phil was crying because Rhys called him gay like it was a bad thing, Merley pitied Phil and lashed out at Rhys! Phil was crying. I couldn't bear the thought. So does he crush on me? No Dan, he probably likes someone much better, I can tell from his style of art; he has class, he has standards. Why am I thinking like this? I sound like Natalie.

'Dan?'

The accent gave away the speaker before I looked up. Articulate like mine, but with a Spanish edge to it. Mrs Lucia Hardisty. English, but of Argentinean decent, a very good Spanish teacher too. What did she say?

'Sorry, what was the question?'

'We were talking about Phil's habit of daydreaming. He won't pass his exams if he keeps it up!'

'I like it.'

Oh shit that sounded bad. Is it too late to add anything? No!

'Any artwork benefits from imagination. Daydreaming lets the imagination free and can create really good pieces. Like Picasso? Without imagination and daydreaming about contorting the face, we would have his prized work today. Daydreaming gave us a lot of things…'

Perfect. Sounds professional. I can work with that.

'He's right.'

Yes Liam. He daydreamed too.

'You two both daydream! It's an artist thing. I wonder if daydreaming and art have a psychological connection…'

I wanted to facepalm. So typically Natalie.

'Whatever.' I said smiling.

I made a haphazard excuse to leave, my mind wondering back to Phil. Phil. My head was higher than his when our hair brushed, and what I felt of it on my face was soft and silky. His beautiful, black, soft and silky hair. I could feel myself grabbing it through a kiss, or stroking it lovingly while his head rested on my chest as we watched a film together. And his stunning blue eyes! I was so glad that Phil liked to look people in the eye; I could stare and not seem strange. They were a brilliant blue, sparkling, chilling, almost haunting… His lips too. A soft pale pink, like the perfect shade of graphite when colouring an innocent gentle rose. Yes. His lips were rose coloured. They must be soft; he's the type of guy who has naturally soft lips. And when he was concentrating, whether it be on an art piece or good daydream, he would bite his lip. My breath quickened at the thought.

I was in my studio, finally alone. Lunch would be over soon. I wanted to scream it all, let it all out. I didn't realise I could contain this many feelings at once. There was a knock at the door, and Liam walked in, to my surprise.

'What's the deal with you then, Dan?'

What?

'What?'

'You rushing off like that. You seemed… I don't know, flustered. You were blushing ever since you mentioned Phil's name.'

Oh shit.

'Err really? I was getting a bit hot, that's why I came in here. And no one in Britain says *flustered* Liam, just saying.'

'Haha okay. But I know you're lying. What's the… how do you say? Craic?'

'Nope, you've gone Irish.'

'Okay okay, bloody hell British slang is confusing.'

'Yes, bloody hell's fine. But maybe stick with the American dialect?'

'Dialect? Sounds British'

I could see him making a mental note.

'No, I'm just strange, don't use *dialect* in an everyday conversation, not good.'

'Got it. Now… tell me.'

'I… I can't tell my boss something like this.'

'Then tell your friend. I'll keep it a secret from my *boss* side. He won't know anything, promise.'

I smiled. He'd got me.

'Don't over-react.'

He raised his eyebrows. Liam Whitehead, cooler than a cucumber.

'I-err…'

'Spit it out!'

'Okay! I… I have a crush.'

'That's it?'

'On a student'

'Ahh. Phil?'

Shit.

'Shit. How did you-?'

'I can tell. I know what love looks like. Blushing, daydreaming, breathing heavier when they're near. You tick all the boxes. Dude, you're not very good at concealing this thing.'

Wow. Okay.

'Whoa. Alright. What do I do?'

'I honestly don't know. You need to know how Phil feels about it all.'

'Yeah… Yes! I need to give him and Merley extension work, so…'

'Give them the *Mind* extension...'

He drifted off into a daydream. I didn't bother asking. Then he blushed. Blushed? What was up with him?

'Okay, I'll do that. What's up with yo-'

I was cut off by the shrill, aesthetically displeasing sound of the bell.

Lunch was over.


	3. We should be friends

**Phil's POV- **

Merley and I sat at other ends of the studio, staring in each others direction, yet we barely recognised our existences.

It was a week since the Rhys and Merley thing, but it was still a hot topic throughout the year. Merley and I had finished our coursework already, so Mr Howell had given us extension work. We often stayed behind after school to do work, we'd just procrastinate otherwise. We never talked though; we were both strong appreciators of silence.

Mr Howell said to create a piece on what's in my mind, my thoughts, dreams, me. I could put everything down except my love for him, not very accurate but oh well. I carefully drew lions, Buffy, Pikachu and totoros, chocolate popcorn and cat whiskers, the piece looking nice and quirky, how I wanted it. I was at the bottom, just my head in manga style. A big thought bubble came out of my head and everything filled it. I gave subtle hints to him, like paint spattering the sides, his big glasses, and his nutella jar of paintbrushes. Subtle enough I hoped.

I glanced quickly over to Merley. Her tongue stuck out in concentration, but there were tears in her eyes. She stopped and sat back, looking at the entire canvas. Full tears dribbled down her face and her bottom lip quivered. Yet she made no sound. The Doctor always said when someone cried loudly, it'd be for attention, but silent tears? They were in real pain.

'Merley?'

I only said her name, but at that she collapsed onto her easel, fat tears

falling from her eyes and face to the floor. I stood up so quickly I had to steady myself on my own easel, but only for a second. I ran over to her and put my left hand on her back and my right on her shoulder. I never really knew how to comfort anyone, this was just… a reflex.

'Merley, what's wrong?'

She snivelled heavily then looked at me as if I had some sort of disease.

'Why would you care? Why would anyone care?' she shouted, as if to the world.

Mr Howell had been in a meeting for a while now, and he would be another while yet, so I had no idea what to do but to talk to her.

'Tell me everything. I'm listening.'

'Why would you?'

'Because I can see no ones listened to you in a long time. Your voice needs to do something.'

She looked at me with eyes holding such raw pain and torture I just grabbed her and hugged her tight. At first she was surprised, and then she just hugged me back, crying heavily into my shoulder.

As we pulled apart, she looked back at it. It was damp with tears.

'Oh shit, sorry.'

'Don't be. Tell me everything.'

I said again so she knew I was there for her.

'It's not that simple.'

'I know it's not.'

I noticed the red-pink scars on her wrists. Her sleeves must have ridden up a bit. No wonder she always held them over half her palms.

I stood up and got a black marker. Not permanent, definitely not, but good enough. As I sat back down I took her wrist and started to draw. At first Merley tried to take her hand back, but as I held tighter she knew she wouldn't get it back until I let go. As I did a few seconds later, a butterfly, right over the scars, came into her view.

'But try. For me.'

She smiled gently through her tears and nodded slowly. I'd gotten through to her. I braced.

'My family was pretty normal, like any other family really. Not one you'd pay much attention to. Mum, Dad, girl and boy. And we were pretty normal. Stay-at-home mum called Sarah who baked and sewed and cleaned and nagged. Businessman dad called James who earned enough doing apparently not much, and was home enough. Teenage internet girl called Merley who twittered and tumbled and youtubed until the cows came home, or until her mum lured her away from her laptop with tea and Ben and Jerry's ice cream. And the little boy Pip who watched too much Pokémon and ran too fast and ate too many sweets. It was all okay; until last year.'

She broke down in more tears and I held her. I could feel she was grateful.

'This last year was probably the worst in my life. Definitely. It started off with trivial things. Like finding out the guy I loved was gay.'

'Who was that?'

'You. But I don't fancy you anymore. I can see you crush on Mr Howell and to be honest, I now ship you two.'

I was a little taken aback, but I smiled.

'Then we got burgled. Not much was taken. Mum's purse and phone, Pip's Nintendo, my netbook. Compensation got that all back quickly though. Then everything got worse. Dad lost his job from the recession. He got some money but not much, so we had to claim benefits. It wasn't a good feeling. But then mum got pregnant again. We started to believe things weren't so bad. Hmm.'

'What?' I murmured, almost dreading the answer.

'It was all going okay, until about three months in. something was wrong with the baby and we didn't know what. Turned out Mum had really bad cervical cancer that she didn't even know about, and some cells had attached themselves to the embryo. The little girl died five months before she was meant to be born.

We were obviously all devastated, but we didn't have time to mourn Mae's death because Mum was put straight into hospital for the cancer. There were endless operations and medications but they all failed. Two months ago mum gave up. I can't say it so don't make me say it.'

'I won't.'

Her tears were steady now but so were her words. Tell tale sign she'd hid crying for too long.

'Now dad's an alcoholic and can't look after me or Pip. He's always drunk or hungover, there's no middle ground. I look after them both. It's so hard, and everyone else is too busy wrapped up in their own problems to care about and listen to mine.'

'Apart from me.'

'Apart from you; which I do appreciate by the way.'

'I know you do. But you're here at the studio a lot, what does your dad and brother do while you're here?'

'Dad drinks. Even if I could bench-press five lorries I couldn't get the bottle out of his hand, he's a lost cause for now. And Pip? Mum had a friend who was close to all of us. She helps by looking after Pip for a while after school, but that's as much as she can handle. She's sickly sweet anyway; I can only cope with her in small doses.

Here is peaceful, nice. You're peaceful, Mr Howell's peaceful, it relaxes me being here. You fit into this room Phil, like it was made for you. Mr Howell does too, you two fit each other. But now here is ruined because I've brought there here.'

She started crying heavily again.

'I'm always upset. I want to cry all the time but I can't because I've used up all my tears. Usually if I start crying with tears I start screaming in happiness because I'm showing signs of humanity, that I'm not turning into an emotionless robot. Then I desperately try to keep on crying because if I don't I'm letting humanity slip through my fingers like sand. So my tears end up being so hot I swear they could singe my face, because I want to be fucking human. Fucking hell.'

She was properly sobbing now. There was only one way I could think of to

cheer her up, even then it was risky. Dorky too.

'You get blue like everyone,'

I started to sing. She looked up at me as if I was mentally ill.

'But me and Grandpa Joe,'

Her face lit like she knew the film but not the song. She'd recognise it soon.

'Can make your troubles go away, blow away, there they go…

Cheer up Charlie, give me a smile. What happened to the smile I used to know? Don't you know your grin has always been my sunshine; let that sunshine show…'

She recognised it finally, and she knew the words too. We both sang at the top of our lungs.

'Come on Charlie, no need to frown! Deep down you know tomorrow is your toy! When the days get heavy, never pitter patter; up and at'em boy!'

I was elated that I'd made her happy again. Of course she'd never forget all these terrible things, but for now they could be lost in her mind. I wouldn't hurt her to escape for a while.

Now we were both practically screaming the song, laughing the whole time, the words now a mussed blur, but the tune just recognisable. Neither of us knew why it was so funny.

'Some day, sweet as a song, Charlie's lucky day will come along. Till that day, you've got to stay strong Charlie; up on top is right where you belong…'

Just at that moment, as if he'd been listening and waiting for the perfect moment, Mr Howell walked in. he looked at us, smiled, and started to sing.

'Look up Charlie, you'll see a star, just follow it and keep your dreams in view…'

At that point I joined in, Mr Howell and I singing it to Merley.

'Pretty soon the sky is going to clear up Charlie, cheer up Charlie, do.

Cheer up Charlie, just be glad you'reee youuu...'

She beamed and we all laughed, for no reason whatsoever. It was weird, having one moment when all of us were filled with complete happiness, euphoria. None of us had ever had it before. It was a cheesy moment but none of us cared. Merley and I looked at each other, thinking what I hope was the same thing.

*We should be friends…*

**Hi! Hope you liked that, I was listening to 'How to Save a Life' by The Fray or 'Cheer up Charlie' (obviously) from Willy Wonka the old version when I wrote this. The story is unintentionally turning into a musical, but I hope that doesn't bother you guys, I didn't mean to! To be honest this was a bit of a filler chapter, but I needed to make Phil and Merley friends. But thanks for reading, and all the follows and favourites and reviews, every email I get from the website makes me so happy! A thankees and goodnight x**


	4. Safe? Probably not

Dan's POV-

I dawdled back to the studio after what I thought was the most boring meeting ever. Most of the time I was having an intense workout keeping my eyes open. Why did I choose teaching?

_If you didn't you wouldn't have met Phil._

Horrified with myself for even thinking for a second about that, I pushed the unwanted thoughts to the back of my mind like a finished dinner.

As I neared the studio doors I heard screams of laughter and a soft tune emanating from the room. I waited silently outside, hearing that the laughter and tuned voices belonged to Phil and Merley. Phil. Feelings hit me and I doubled over.

_Right in the gut. _

As I recovered, I heard them singing Cheer up Charlie. I waited for the perfect moment, then burst in, the words flooding back to me with ease.

'Look up Charlie, you'll see a star, just follow it and keep your dreams in view…'

They grinned at me as I grinned back. Phil and I finished the song to Merley, and noticing the stains of old tears on her face, I didn't ask any questions.

'Hello you two! Doing your extensions I see. You better get them finished; we can start the next course tomorrow!'

'Hi sir, where have you been?'

'Hi Merley, a meeting. It was painfully boring.' I replied. I could see her artwork had dark writhing shapes on it; explains the tears.

'I've finished mine.' Phil said, 3 words and my heart was already beating faster? Wow Dan. My conscience slowly clapped.

'Cool, let's see…'

I walked over to his easel putting on my glasses, I didn't really need them anymore, but Phil had complimented them once. His piece was beautiful, really eccentric, in the best way possible. I couldn't help but notice my big glasses and my nutella paintbrush jar in the mess of Phil's life, and I hope it meant something.

'That's really good Phil! I'm not going to mark it properly right now but I think it might be worth an A!'

'Wow really?'

'Why do you sound so surprised? You get A's a lot.'

'I know, but it's still really cool when I get one.'

'Haha! Hey is that an ivory tower there?'

'Yeah… Like in the You Me At Six song. I like them.'

'So do I! And that's the Muse sign right?'

'Yes! They're my favourite band. My favourite song is Uprising.'

'I like that one, but my favourite has to be Knights of Cydonia. What do you think of Madness?'

'It took me a while, but I like it. Do you?'

'Yes, but like you it took a while.'

'Exogenesis Symphony?'

'Gives me chills!'

I laughed and he did too. I love his laugh; he sticks his tongue out when he's laughing really hard. He always sticks his tongue out laughing with me. I hope that's a good thing.

'Buffy?' I said, starting a new conversation.

'Yes! You're never too old for Buffy.'

'Good point. Have you seen all of the episodes?'

'Yes. I love it. Have you?'

'Yeah. We've got to have a Buffy marathon sometime.'

'Yes!' he said almost a little too quickly. I tried to read him, but let's just say I'm not exactly Sherlock Holmes. He moved on quickly.

'Lions are my favourite animal. I know it's kinda sad but I don't care.'

'It's not sad! Llamas are my favourite. But lions are cool too. Those drawings are really good.'

'Thank you!'

We almost forgot Merley was still there, but she was finishing her piece. She noticed our silence.

'No, go on, I'm not really listening and I need to get this done.'

We happily compromised.

'So what else do you like Phil?'

He breathed out slowly, as if preparing. For what?

'Err, I like the Internet.'

'Cool! Me too. I'm saying that a lot now, aren't I?'

'I guess we're just very alike. You like internet?'

'I'm not that old!'

'I know, but… never mind. How old are you if you don't mind me asking?'

'23. It's kinda weird that I know almost everything about you and you don't know about me.'

'Yeah that is weird. You're more of a friend than a teacher.'

'Haha, you're more of a friend than a student! Ask away, I can tell you want to…'

He blushed an adorable shade of pink, then the questions came.

'What's your first name?'

'Dan.'

'Dan.' He repeated. 'Can I call you that?'

'Yes. But in class you'll have to call me Mr Howell again.'

'Cool. Do you live in Greenwich?'

'Yes, I've got a flat about 10 minutes away. It's bloody expensive. How about you?'

'I live 20 minutes away. My parents work in Westminster.'

'Cool! Sorry, saying that way too much.'

'Haha, don't worry. What TV do you like?'

'Doctor Who. Sherlock. Comedy.'

'I like those! Who's your favourite comedian?'

'Milton Jones. King of the one-liners, he's hilarious.'

'I like Russell Kane. Apparently I look like him.'

'You do a bit! He's funny too, and Russell Howard.'

'Yes he's really funny too. Favourite film?'

'Impossible question. Harry Potter, Kill Bill, Lord of the Rings, Mean Girls! There's too many!'

'Haha! _If you're from Africa why are you white? _Who doesn't like that film? I can't name mine either…'

'Now come on, not just favourite whatevers. Real questions please!'

'Rude!' he laughed, and I was relieved he knew it was a joke. 'Girlfriend?'

'No!'

'Haha, boyfriend?'

'No. Unfortunately.'

'Fancy anyone?'

For a second he got me. I panicked then quickly blurted…

'No.'

Safe? Probably not… The room suddenly got awkward. Tension made the silence sound quiet, even though it was screaming.

'I ship you two.' Merley said, to break the ice. 'Dail? No… Phan! That's better…'

It was nice of her to try and get the conversation flowing again, but it just made me and Phil go red.

'Sorry.' She said, and cleared up.

As she tidied, our scarlet faces stared at the other. Something was going on in his mind about me. What was it? I desperately wanted to tell him how I felt, just everything.

_Phil, I…_

_I love you Phil…_

_Phil can we talk…?_

'Phil I need to-'

But at the same time Merley said 'Phil lets go.' No…

'Sorry Dan, what?' she said quickly, looking guilty.

'Oh, I just wanted to say Phil, I need to… tell you you're art is really good. I want to talk to you about art school sometime soon.'

Nice save.

'Okay. Tomorrow?'

'Yes. Tomorrow.'

And they left. Tomorrow couldn't be coming any slower. Little did I know what tomorrow brought…


	5. The Ultimate fear of an Enemy

**Phil's POV-**

Tomorrow.

We walked through the school gates and down the path at the side of the school. It was cold but our coats kept us warm. It was almost dark by the time we were leaving, and considering it was only October that was kind of bad…

Tomorrow. I couldn't wait. Alone, with Mr How- Dan, together, talking about something we both loved. Just the thought exhilarated me. Dan fitted him. Dan fitted Dan so perfectly I was surprised I could've thought it was anything else. But tomorrow.

We could talk again. About things we liked, things we didn't like, anything we wanted. And we could talk about something we were really passionate about and both be practically screaming at each other our opinions, then things could escalate and-

'You really do love him, don't you?'

I snapped out of my daydream and steadied myself into reality. Merley had stopped in the middle of the pathway just outside the school, but no one was around.

'Yes. If you're talking about Dan.'

'Of course I am. The way you act around him is adorable. And I think he likes you too.'

'No. No way. How could he like me?'

'I swear he does. I can see it in his eyes! Phil he really likes you.'

My heart rose into my throat and my knees went soft. I felt so numb I could barely speak. My heart blocked my voice box anyway.

'Numb huh? I know the feeling. It's like you shouldn't like it but its one of the best feelings in the world. So how are you going to ask him out?'

It was one of those moments where if I had a mouth full of water it would have been spat everywhere right now.

'What?! I can't ask him out, he's my teacher!

'Then wait. Wait until you leave school and come back for him.'

'But how can I wait for such a perfect guy?!'

'If you love him, you'll wait. Imagine everything you'll do in the meantime.'

She smiled at me, as if reading my uncontrolling and somewhat sexual mind.

'Haha yes! You've got to admit he's beautiful though. Come on.'

'Yes he's pretty. But I like someone else, he's gay and you like him. No.'

'Who do you like?'

'No one.'

'Tell me!'

'No!'

'I'll tickle you.'

'DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE.'

'Okay okay, joking!'

We laughed. She's too ticklish to function. Yeah, I really like Mean Girls.

'I like you. You're like a gay best friend.'

'Aw thanks! Am I not your best friend? Cries forever!'

'Haha, okay, you are my gay best friend!'

A voice came from behind us. It hung in the air like damp heavy mist.

'Gay? For Mr Howell? Call me Sherlock 'olmes.'

The moment froze for too long. We recognised the voice. Rhys. Everything deadened and was silent. As we slowly turned we saw him. Tall, bleach blonde hair which was greasy and spiked, lanky with no muscle and a gorped mouth overflowing with crude insults that gave him his power. His friends stood behind, them all with clenched fists and spiked football boots. The ultimate fear of an enemy.

'Run. You emo cun'.'

I tried to run but they'd got me inches from where I was before. Rhys punched me in the face, cutting my lip instantly. A sharp stinging pain came from it, but I had more important things on my plate. A sharp blow to the stomach brought me to my knees, and another in the side of my head made me smack the tarmac. They heaved me up by my clothes.

In the frenzy I lashed anything and everything I could at them. It was useless. So I stopped defending myself and took it.

The hand held a small pen knife. Blunted from use, but still sharp enough. It reached out, blade poised, and it gashed down the right side of my face. My skin grated like cheese, and the dead curls clumped on the sides of the knife. A line of pain across my cheekbone soon turns to a blaring slash. Blood started to readily fall down my face, like some gory, warped horror. As I realised that pain was calling from the side of my face my eyes squeezed shut and my right hand teleported from trying to hold them back to my cheek. I seethed through my teeth at the pain of fresh acidic skin of my hand against the ripped and bloodied of my face, and then I looked up at them through squinted, pained eyes. I knew it was only a scratch compared to the intensity of the warning it gave.

They pushed me back to the ground. All I could do was curl up and protect my head and vital organs, so I did. I looked to see Merley pressed against the wall opposite, shaking and crying. I pushed all of the pleading and begging and hope through my eyes at her, but she didn't receive it. She ran away, leaving her bag in fear probably.

I wrapped my head up again and tried to ignore the pain, telling myself it would stop soon. It wouldn't. Knowing Rhys, even when only armed with a blunt pen knife, football boots and fist, he wouldn't stop until the gay was dead.


	6. Tranquility Reigns

Dan's POV.

I sat at my desk feeling all happy and gooey inside. I could tell he was trying to be friends with me, anyone could. I'd happily be his friend back. I couldn't help but daydream again.

He appeared so flawless to me, I didn't see how anyone couldn't find him beautiful. He was so kind to Merley and I.

He always said please and thank you and apologised if necessary. He had manners and was a proper gentleman to everyone. No matter how mean someone else was to him, he'd still treat them with respect. The upmost respect. _When I was younger, you even told me, to show evil, the upmost respect. _He either liked You Me At Six or was brothers with Josh Franceschi.

And he was really funny; I could barely stop laughing with him. He seemed like the guy everybody would want to know, but they seem to not want to. It was strange.

I smiled widely at thoughts of him. Kissing him. I bet he kissed well, with those soft looking lips of his. Loving him. I know it was a bit weird and perverted, but no one could see inside my head could they? I wondered if he was a virgin. Hmm. Living with him. I often daydreamed about sharing my flat with him. Its sounds creepy but I wondered lots about how he lived, what he did in the mornings or after school, just general little things that you'd take for granted if you lived with him. Proposing to him. Wow. I'd already planned it out, believe it or not. Snort. I'd take him to Paris or Venice on holiday. For the first few days we'd just sight-see and explore, be a proper tourist. Then in the middle of the holiday I'd take him to a quiet fancy restaurant and after the meal, I'd be really cheesy, one knee and tell him how much I loved him. Obviously in my dreams he said yes, then we'd walk back to our really nice hotel via the Seine or sail back on a gondola. I won't explain what I thought would happen that night. I smiled widely at the thought, feeling my babyish dimples dig into my muscles. I fanboyed so much over him sometimes.

My daydreams ruled and tranquillity reigned.

I sat practically drooling over him when Merley burst in, her face whiter than snow with fear, eyes wide in shock and tears streaming down her face.

'I-It's Phil.' she choked out hoarsely.

I felt my face drain as my mind flew through every possible problem at the speed of light. I leapt up and ran towards the door, Merley's expression chilling me. I sprinted out and she followed, light footed and faster than I expected.

'He loves you.' She breathed out heavily as we ran.

'What?!'

Oh my god.

'Yes he does. And you love him too. Don't try to deny it Dan.'

'Mr Howell. He loves me?'

'Yes! We were walking home talking about him and you, but then Rhys overheard and him and his mates-'

'No I get it. They're all homophobic as fuck.'

'Exactly.'

We turned a corner at that point, and I saw a cluster of boys near a wall. Them. I ran faster, the end in close sight, and ripped through the wall of violent angry boys. Phil was curled up in a little ball, trying to protect himself, as feet kicked and fists punched. They were bruising the daydreams as well as Phil. I tore through, the boys stopped, and Phil looked up to see. His lip was cut and there was another under his left eye, but that one was bleeding badly. There was a long scratch down the side of his left cheek, near his ear. Under his right cheekbone there was a blue-purple bruise, but nothing else. Tears stained everywhere else on his face and I knew bruises stained the skin under his clothes.

At the sight of me most of the boys ran. But Rhys and his closest mates stood their ground. I turned to them, elated with raw anger. I half smiled slyly as I noticed Rhys head, a few inches short of mine. As his actions found their way back to the front of my mind, the slyness fell.

'Leave. Now. You are the fucking brattiest boy I know, and you are disgusting. You're an arsehole, Merley was right last week. I've heard you were beating him up because he's gay. Is this true?!'

He shrugged, unfazed by me. 'Yeah. He's a fuckin' faggo'.'

My blood boiled. Partly because he called Phil that; partly because he couldn't even pronounce a 't' on the end of it.

'You homophobic BASTARD!'

I grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard as I spoke. I couldn't control it anymore.

'YOU'RE A DISGUSTING LITTLE BOY, WHO CARES FOR NO ONE BUT HIMSELF! YOU ARE A WASTE OF SPACE WHO DOESN'T DESERVE THE LIFE YOU'VE HAD! YOU CAN'T EVEN PRONOUNCE YOUR WORDS PROPERLY YOU ILLITERATE FOOL! I KNOW WHO YOU ARE RHYS RECKUFE, I KNOW YOU'RE PAST. YOU'VE BEEN SPOILT THIS ENTIRE TIME, AND NOW YOU'RE A SEXIST, RACIST, HOMOPHOBIC CHILD WHO CAN'T DEAL WITH THE 21ST CENTURY. GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SIGHT RHYS, BEFORE I SHOW YOU HOW MUCH OF A FUCKING PRICK YOU REALLY ARE!'

They all ran then. He was scared. Good.

I turned to Phil, almost crying but not. He looked up at me in shock, and then smiled weakly.

'That was amazing.'

'Thank you. I got a bit too angry didn't I? Oh well, let's get you to the studio…'

He smiled at me, definitely a good sign I thought. I helped him up and Merley and I walked him back the studio.

When we got there, I sat Phil on a stool and started looking for the first aid kit.

'I've got to go. I'll see you tomorrow Phil, hope you get better. Bye.' Merley said, walking back out.

I heard Phil say goodbye, and I muttered a quick 'bye' and 'thank you' to her as I found the green box with the white cross.

'Here we are.' I said walking back to him.

I opened it and prepared the antiseptic solution and cotton wool.

'This'll sting, but I'll talk to take your mind of it.'

I started to dab at the cuts and scratch, him seething through his teeth in pain.

'Merley told me.'

'Told you what?'

'That you like me. As in crush on me. Sorry, I sound like a twat like that.'

Half smile.

'No you don't. And I guess I can't really deny it now. Sorry.'

'Don't apologise! Do you have a boyfriend?'

'Haha! No! Do you think anyone would fancy this?!' he said pointing at himself.

'Yes. I'm guessing from that statement you haven't had a boyfriend.'

'Never. Not even a kiss. At bloody 17.'

At that point I pitied him. He probably wouldn't want me to, but I couldn't help it. The guy he wanted so much, who also loved him back couldn't kiss him. I couldn't be bothered with the rules anymore.

I finished tending him and he stood up slowly. The wide windows captured the setting sun behind him, elating him, looking like an angel. He smiled.

'Thank you for helping me.'

'It's okay. How have you never been kissed?'

'Nobody likes me in that way I guess. You look like you pity me.'

'I do.'

'Don't.'

'I could give you your first kiss. As a practise for your boyfriend, you'll get one soon, I promise.'

'What?'

I smiled gently, showing I meant it. He nodded, smiling back. I took his bruised cheek with my right hand and held the small of his back, bringing him closer. He held me, and I knew he didn't mean it to be perfect, it was a reflex. I pulled his face slowly to mine and pressed my lips against him. He felt, smelt and tasted just like my daydreams but better. I couldn't quite believe I was finally kissing the guy of my paradise…

_It's, the way you love me,_

_It's, a feeling like this,_

_It's, centrifugal motion,_

_It's, perpetual bliss,_

_It's, that pivotal moment,_

_It's ahh, subliminal… _

This kiss this kiss. Where have I heard that before? As we parted, and the moment became a memory, fading faster than I ever imagined, I craved more. His stunning wide eyes looked into mine, speechless. His mouth tried to form words, but his voice couldn't draw them in air. The world slowed for a while and my imagination ran like wild horses did in Native America.

As he breathed out slowly, blue and green tinted air swirls spiralled off he lips and formed his daydreams around his head; random twirls and incomprehensible shapes, nothing of this world. He smiled at me, and we both felt indeed, subliminal.

He took my face in his hands and pulled me into a new, fuller kiss. I took caution, in case anyone walked in, but my caution wouldn't make it look any less like what it really was. I realised I couldn't go back now, it'd gone too far. But I liked it. A lot. So I kissed back.

Tranquillity reigned… 

**Hi everybody! Thank you sosososososososososososososo sososossoo much for following and favouriting and reviewing it's the best feeling ever thank you! Just a bit of pre-warning that the chapter after next is err… that one chapter that took all my willpower to write. Yeah you should know the one I'm talking about. Thanks! Byeee. (teamllamarmy2k12waitwhatnopr omonothisispromotionhithere)**


	7. Those once in a Blue Moon times

Phil's POV

His eyes. From a distance they looked a mere brown, but close up they weren't such a two dimensional colour, they were loads of different shades, and flecks a hundred different tones more. The black of his pupil contrasted so beautifully against the rectangle of white where the light bounced off, making him look so… human. His lashes were dark, straight and the type girls would kill for. I studied every crease that made up his eyes and confirmed it to myself; Dan was flawless.

His lips were still damp from leaving mine seconds before. They were parted slightly, emptying and filling his lungs, quick with adrenaline, still almost feeling the matching lips barely an inch away from them. I saw a glint of a tooth and a glisten of his tongue. My lips anticipated his lips as much as his anticipated mine.

I couldn't take it. He shouldn't have kissed me. Now I wouldn't be able to let go. I took his soft face in my hands and pulled it to mine. I kissed back, I tried to show him I needed him, and he definitely got the message. My hands played with his velvety hair and his arms wrapped around my back, lifting me onto my toes, me only slightly smaller than him. Our bodies pressed together. I couldn't believe this was happening so soon, it seemed so surreal. But this was no dream.

We kissed for a while longer, being cautious about sounds that could be the end of us after only this short moment. None came thank god. Soon it was nearing 6pm. School had finished 3 hours ago, oh my god. I was preparing to stay with him forever when…

*UNACCEPTABLE!*

*UNACCEPTABLE!*

*UNACCEPTABLE!*

I blushed and picked up my phone.

'Yes… Yeah… Sorry about that… No I was just getting extra tuition… 10 minutes. Okay?... Okay bye.'

'Who was that?'

'My dad.'

'And the ringtone?'

'He likes Adventure Time too…'

I blushed more. But Dan smiled. Dimples. Teeth. The little arrows at the sides of his mouth. Good god how did I EVER get him?! He knew I had to leave, so he packed up his things and drove me to just around the corner from my house.

'We don't need your parents knowing. Not right now.'

'Yeah,' I smiled. 'I understand.'

He kissed me softly on my nose and ran his fingertips through my hair around my neck. I smiled and he smiled back.

I got out of the car and just as I was about to close the door he muttered,

'I think I'm falling in love with you…'

My heart squeezed and my stomach fluttered, my mouth dropped slightly and my head went soft. I climbed quickly through the car and I grabbed his head and planted a kiss on his soft unready lips. His shocked expression grew an adorable half smile.

'I don't think I've heard something more beautiful.'

And I closed the car door and walked away, a spring in my regenerated self. I felt a cool burn of his stare on me until the last second, where I turned round once more and gave him a quick smile.

It was from then on we 'dated'. I'd stay behind almost everyday, and when Merley left we would either spend the evening in the studio together or Dan would drive us back to his flat. I loved his flat, it was modern like Dan, and it seemed like he belonged there. We didn't tell anyone about our relationship apart from Merley, but even then she knew little of the sheer scale of 'us'. A few months passed, with our lives together being filled with kissing in front of the big glass wall he has in his flat (he lives on the top floor and the view of London at night is stunning), cuddling with a good movie and maltesers then falling asleep leaning on each other, and the best? Those once in a blue moon times where we could get on the roof with blankets and just look at the stars and talk about the weirdest or deepest things, and those conversations would just stay there and it wouldn't get awkward when we went back downstairs because the conversations stayed upstairs. Or we were too busy kissing to care. Months passed of that and it was beautiful. But as our relationship matured and grew stronger so did our cravings for the… pinnacle. I think you can guess what I mean. So we needed to satisfy them.

We slipped off our shoes in the entrance to that so familiar flat, which fitted Dan perfectly. We took off the ugly blazers we had to wear and flopped on his sofa. We talked for hours about everything and anything, school, internet and bands, and at the same time life, it's meaning and all things like that. I liked that about our relationship. We got food. We did some art. Before we knew what was happening it was 8pm. I called my dad quickly and said I was staying with a friend, he believed me.

'So that means we have an entire evening to waste…' Dan smiled sexily.

He crawled the short distance to me and pressed his lips against mine. He didn't work it because he was still moving, but he would compensate. He took my head in his hands and I wrapped my arms around his back, our usual position. We slipped down, laughing and kissing, everything so perfect and happy. Everything was better when we were happy.

We lay there pressing against each other and clinging to each other, in desperation not to fall down the sides. His sweet breath was on my face, my breath on his. The silence sang.

'Phil.'

'Yes?'

'We need to talk.'

'About what?'

'I can't tell you now. Shall we go the balcony, get some air?'

'Please tell me!'

'I am!' he laughed. 'But on the balcony. I've needed to talk to you about this for a long time.'

'But-'

'I'll get you coffee since I'm getting tea. Balcony.'

He got up and went to the kitchen area. I heard clinks of porcelain and with every clink my stomach ached more. I walked out to the balcony and did I dread this conversation? Yes. Anxiety played it's games…

**Next week. I'm sorting of dreading it too. (And I promise I won't go all Moffat on you with the roof thing, I'm still fragile) But yes I apologise in advance and try my best to explain it was written at 2am. I'm so sorry.**


	8. I'll get my way

Dan's POV

Phil was silhouetted against the bright lights of the city on the balcony, a light breeze making his soft ebony hair flutter gently and the curtains at the side of the doors billow, like a film scene. He looked with intent down at the busy city life, his posture making him seem intrigued. I walked out with my cup of tea and his cup of coffee, holding it out to him. His fingers brushed mine as he took it, and as we looked back to the town centre we sipped our drinks simultaneously.

'It's a beautiful view.'

His soft sweet voice was dripping with innocence. It made me crave him.

'Yes, that was one of the reasons why I bought it. So. The reason why I want you here.'

'Yeah?'

'How long have you liked me?'

I didn't want to seem creepy, but I wanted to know if he was ready. Of course I wanted to love him, but I didn't want it to just be a phase, that he'd regret later in life.

'Well, I've always known I was gay. But you? Ever since you walked in on the first day of upper sixth.'

Thank god. He couldn't be more ready. Please let him want it!

'And another?'

'Anything.'

'Do you think you're ready for sex?'

He nearly spat out his coffee.

'Wow Dan! How do you mean?'

'You know how I mean.'

'Then yes. But only if it's with you. Would you like it?'

'Yes. I don't mean to creep you out, but I'd think about it a lot in class.'

'Haha! I do too, but in every other class than art.'

I smiled. He smiled back.

'So you want to have sex?'

'Yes. You know…' I placed my cup on the glass table next to me, 'I haven't had a kiss from you today yet…'

I smiled, turning it as sexy as possible.

I walked round in front of him, his back to the city, like life imitating art. I took his coffee cup and placed it on the table. My hand stroked his hair and the nearly faded scar down his cheekbone, and the other went behind his back, pulling him close. His hands went up past my shoulders and linked at the back of my neck. I leaned in and kissed him softly, for so long I don't know what our bodies did from the lack of oxygen. As we parted, we looked into each others eyes. His perfect crystal eyes. He smiled sexily and pushed me back into the flat.

We kissed more and more, so much passion, harder, harder. Phil pushed my back against the wall, him leading with ease. I felt his tongue press against my lips, but I kept my mouth tightly shut, teasing him. I pulled back. He looked back at me, desperate for more.

'Hey…'

'Now now, we can't have everything we want!'

'I'll get my way…' he muttered as he kissed me and bit my lower lip.

My hand went down to his, and linking, I turned, leading him to the bedroom. As soon as we were in, my arms went under his bum and I lifted him up, only a head above me. He wrapped his skinny legs around my hips, both of us holding tight. His hands were on the sides of my face, and he giggled before kissing me more. I spun us round a few times, us both smiling through the kisses. We fell on my bed, Phil underneath and me on top. I quickly straddled him, he didn't complain. Now, I would lead.

We kissed, passion exploding around us like fireworks. This time it was my tongue against his mouth, and he let me in quickly. I rolled around in Phil's mouth, taking him in. He tasted just like he smelt, of sweet coffee, yet better. I licked the insides of his mouth, teasing him further.

'Dwan!' he cried, muffled by my tongue.

I couldn't help it as I started grinding my hips onto him. We parted and my tongue the last thing to leave. Heavy breaths and low moans filled the silence. I could feel Phil move underneath my grinds, and I looked straight at him.

He was the guy I wanted more than anything in the world as soon as I saw his face. I was his teacher and he was my student, but it didn't seem strange at all. That didn't matter. Everything I wanted was here, I was getting it. And it couldn't feel any better.

I kissed his wound and he let out a long sigh, and I slowed then stopped.

'Hey!' he cried again.

'Pleasure me. Make me moan…' I carried out the 'n' long enough to make him smile.

'Okay…'

I sat back, releasing him. He climbed up and we sat just staring at each other. He then launched onto me playfully, and I took him in my arms. He kissed me hard but sweetly, and just that nearly made me moan. I didn't. He wasn't getting away that easily.

He took off my tie, then shirt, then jeans, then boxers. We parted and he looked down, smiling.

'Nice. Ready?'

'Nice?'

'Perfect.'

'Go.'

His hands that had been clutching my thighs made their way up to me, and he took me in both hands. He rubbed up and down gently at first, caressing me, but then his grip got tighter, his hands moved faster. Soon I was leaning back, wanting so much more but desperately trying not to moan because he knew if I did then it'd be his turn. But I couldn't hold it in.

'Ohh! Phil, I'm gonna cum!'

'What?! Oh god!'

He didn't know what to do, and as I moaned from me climaxing, I laughed.

'Did I muck it up?' he asked shyly as he saw the mess on the sheets.

'No. You were perfect.'

And I wasn't lying.

'Really?'

'Yes. My turn…'

I kissed his soft lips gently, knowing exactly how to make him scream. He being fully clothed was an unfair advantage, and they didn't help my next move.

Tie. Floor.

Shirt. Floor. Breathe.

Jeans. Floor. Breathe Dan!

Boxers. Who knows? And fuck breathing.

I stared for maybe longer than I should have at Phil's manhood. When I snapped out of it I looked up quickly and apologised.

'Why are you apologising?'

'Socially awkward.'

He bit his lip. Ohh.

'Who cares?'

And with those perfect words from his mouth I smiled. Obviously as sexily as I could.

'Lean back.'

He did as he was told. Already hard, I didn't need to work him. I bowed down and my tongue, once licking the inside of Phil's mouth, licked something a little smuttier. It left a thin trail of saliva up his erection. I gently bit the head softly, and I could hear Phil's breath deepen, getting heavier and heavier. My eyes flickered up and I winked softly while I turned the edges of my lips up. I looked back and slowly took him into my mouth. I sucked, at first only a little, then faster, more intense. I had never done this before, but Phil seemed perfect for me. I needed to show him. I didn't really know what to do, but it seemed to be the right thing.

I don't know how I knew.

Reflexes.

Phil breathed really heavy now and was close to climaxing.

'Dan! I'm gonna cum now!'

He barely finished speaking before his words came true. Phil spurted into my mouth. He screamed with pleasure. At first I was surprised, but then I realised how good he tasted. I swallowed gratefully and released him.

'Oh my god!' Phil exclaimed in shock.

'Good?' I already knew the answer.

'I've never felt anything like it before. It was insane!'

'I could tell'

I wiped the sides of my mouth as he smiled.

'Sorry about that.'

'Don't apologise! I liked it.'

He laughed beautifully.

'You know you're technically still a virgin.'

'Hey! Alright alright…'

'Got the energy?'

'How could I not?'

**I'm so SORRY.**


	9. Please Phil! I'm so sorry

Phil's POV.

Can we cuddle?

In just our underwear, so our skin can touch. Can I hold you while you wrap yourself around me? I'll play with your hair and drag my fingertips across your skin. You'll peck at my neck while I laugh and tell you to stop. We could whisper cute things to each other that no one else could hear…

My eyes opened slowly and groggily as they became accustomed to the bright lights of sunshine streaming through the glass wall. As I woke my brain up several realisations came to me, one by one.

This isn't my bed.

This isn't my house.

I'm completely naked right now.

There is someone right behind me spooning me.

They are naked too.

They are a guy.

That guy's called Dan.

And he just took my virginity.

Overall I thought I was in a pretty good place. I sighed and squirmed against his warmth, and he fluttered awake too.

'Good morning beautiful…' I cooed at him, turning gently and scooping him up in my arms like he was doing to me. I saw the realisations cross his face and he then smiled and sighed. He was perfectly content with where he was now too.

'Morning cutie.' He cooed back. I felt so strange and happy this morning, but he was being overly happy and positive too so it must be a morning after thing.

'Remember last night yet?' he added, striking up a conversation.

All I could think of was,

'My bum aches a bit!'

He laughed and kissed me.

'You're so perfect!' he exclaimed and laughed some more. 'It will for a bit, but it'll go soon. You'll feel all weird and positive for longer.'

We smiled at each other and cuddled for a while. We took in each others scent, bad but cute bed hair, our hot breath, everything. Just holding each other, kisses on the nose, little breaths of laughter heating the small fragment of air between us, pressing our bodies together feeling the others soft skin against ours.

"I know I'm falling in love with you. In fact I've already fallen."

Dan barely whispered the words to me. My mind ran to when he said that in his car and ran back in the space of a second; filling my heart with a feeling I hadn't felt before. For Dan. Love. Not just any love though. Love that made my heart come up into my throat and stop my breath, love that filled my entire body with butterflies and gave me goose bumps everytime I saw him, love that stopped the blood and made my head soft. Could I really take these feelings? Ha, no.

I smiled at him, not knowing how to tell him everything I felt for him. I opened my mouth in a desperate attempt to explain. He put his hand over it, lifted my jaw closed, and kissed me again. It explained everything. I showed him everything, only to find he felt exactly the same for me. We parted, and lay there in complete silence, it being filled with our thoughts.

His lips moved.

Formed words.

No sounds.

He blinked slowly.

'What's up Dan?'

'Got this song stuck in my head and it won't leave!'

'Sing it. Gets songs out of my head. Just the chorus though.'

His sweet voice filled the air again.

'Oh. It is love. From the first, time I set my eyes upon yours, thinking oh, is it love?'

I laughed at the pretty little song and joined him, tunelessly.

'Oh. It is love, from the first, time I pressed my hand into yours, thinking oh, is it love?'

I knew he loved that song, even though it was kinda cheesy, he knew all the words, how many chorus' there were, how to play it on the piano…

Soon we were on our knees, the sheets falling a bit, singing it loudly at each other grinning like Cheshire cats.

'Ohh! It is lovveee! From the first, time I pressed my lips against yoursss! Thinking ohhh! Is it love?'

As the final sprinkling of chords sang through our heads, he kissed me on the nose, and I tackled him down again, laughing from his company.

We lay in silence again, as I imagined my life with him, buying a flat or house, holidays, the proposal, the marriage, maybe even the adoption! It all seemed big and terrifying, but I knew Dan would be there to soothe me. I was to busy daydreaming to notice his face darken.

'Get out.'

I heard him perfectly well. Not that I wanted to hear it.

'What?' I said smiling, as if it was a big joke. His tone of voice didn't seem that way but maybe he was a good actor.

'I said get OUT!' he shouted.

'Wait, what did I do?'

He pushed me to the edge of the bed and got up, still naked. As I returned to the vertical stance of an ordinary human I could feel my dreams of him, my life with him slipping out of my ears and crashing into shards of glass, pricking my feet, dotted red.

'Just get out of my flat! You heard me, leave!' he cried, tears gathering but his expression unmoving.

'Stop, what are you thinking about?! Tell me, we can get through this!'

He knelt down to the floor and started picking up my clothes and chucking them at me.

'Take your fucking clothes; take your fucking school bag and leave!' he spat.

He picked up my boxers and threw them at me in disgust.

'Excuse you, 2 minutes ago we were singing a cheesy love song to each other! Half an hour ago we were pressing our naked bodies together! 12 hours ago you were bloody inside me!'

I pulled on my clothes heatedly. I didn't want to get all defensive to him, I had fallen in love with him, but he didn't really give me an option.

'I. Don't. Care. Get out of my sight Phil Lester.'

He used my full name. The one that I hated because Phil sounded old and Lester got me teased if the syllable 'Mo' came up in conversation. The one that I wanted to change to at least Phil Howell at some point in my future. The one Dan said so beautifully it made me think why I ever hated it. This time he spat it out like it was sour on his tongue.

'Dan,' I replied softly, trying to get through to him. 'Dan I-'

'It's Mr Howell. Go home Phil. NOW!'

I got the rest of my clothes on quickly, and picked up my bag. I turned and gave one last look at him. Still naked, still glowed in the sunlight streaming through the glass behind him. His mussy sex hair and shining teary eyes and cutie kitten pout made him adorable. I looked at him with such sorrow, I loved him and I knew he loved me, dare I say it. What was wrong with him?

He walked over to me and brushed his fingers through my hair and flattened it gently.

'Sex hair. Big giveaway. See you on Monday Phil.'

And he opened the door, gently pushed me through and it clicked shut too slowly. I heard a soft thud against the wood, and a soft shuffling noise, as if he was sinking to the ground. I left when I heard him sobbing quietly. Unfortunately I didn't leave so soon that I couldn't hear his cry in pain. It must have been at that point I started crying…

_I loved Phil. Of course I did. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Phil. It wasn't like I wanted sex and just used him, I cared for Phil. But. That big but. He was my student. I just prepared him for exams that made him look good nothing else. My family would hate me, whatever I said. I'd lose my job. All my friends would leave me, think I was a creep. But I wasn't, I'm not! He loves me too I swear please believe me! I'm not a creep he wants me too! Please, please! I love him! I really really love him! Please! I'm sorry Phil, please, I'm so sorry…_

Monday. 11:15am. Break time.

As soon as the bell went I ran straight to the studio. Right from Saturday morning where he chucked me out to early this morning, about 3am I'd been crying over Dan. I eventually fell asleep but missed my alarm this morning so I was late. This was the first chance I could have had to talk to him, and I took it. I could feel the burn of people's stares on me as I ran through the crush of people towards art department. I couldn't care less.

Sooner than I expected I was at the door. I peered through the high fuzzy gaps in the door, filled with glass. The outline of a man, with creamy caramel skin, nutty brown hair and a white half-sleeved shirt specked with paint sat at the desk, his head in his hands. Tiny shapes moved from the hazy profile of his head to the desk, quickly, barely noticeable. I noticed.

I pushed through the door and dropped my things as it clashed shut. Dan looked up, face damp.

He sniffed and wiped his face quickly, composed himself in a second.

'Hello Phil, what can I help you with?'

'You know why I'm here.'

'Sorry, I don't. You don't have any art to finish so I don't see why you're here.'

'Stop that Dan! Stop it right now! You know why I'm here don't try and fake you don't! You can act but I kind of gave my virginity to you, don't try and think I'm stupid Dan.'

'Fine. What do you want?'

His voice lost emotion. Deadpan. It stung like a blade.

'Why? Why did you make me leave like that? I know you still like me, you started crying as soon as you closed the door.'

My eyes pricked with tears and I felt ridiculous for being so emotionally uncontrolled.

'Phil. Yes I like you. Yes I love you. But I'm your teacher. This can't happen! I'll get arrested, you'll have to move away, our world will crash around our ears and then get torn apart. Phil if we get found out we'll never see each other again!'

'But it was going fine! Nobody was noticing, not even Rhys, it was just you me and Merley who knew what was going on.'

'Me you Merley and Liam… Liam knew too.'

'Fine, you me Merley and Liam. But even those two like each other! Any day know something will happen and they'll get together! Why can't we stay like this?'

'Phil, you tell Merley this. You can love Liam however much you want; you can even love him so much you'd die for him. But society will always make that loving useless.'

That's when my heart stopped. Blood stopped, breathing stopped. Just for a second. But the longest second of my life.

'Dan.'

'Sorry Phil. Maybe in the next life. Now we can't do this. You've got 2 minutes of break left; you better go to your next lesson.'

'My next lesson is art.'

'Oh. Okay. Sorry I forgot. Sit down. You still need to learn about knocking though.'

He didn't smile.


	10. Epilogue time!

Okay. So. Here we are. Hi it's the author here, and this is a very long thank you explanation thing so lets call it a epilogue! I just want to say thank you for ALLLL the follows, favourites, reviews, PM's everything from all of you, and I knoW WHO YOU ARE! So thank you tooooo:

(probably going to piss off with a lot of stereotypes so I drink all the tea I live in Buckingham palace and I've hired Sherlock 3 times…)

All you UK people who considering how many of you there are I must live within a 1 hour radius of one of you hmm…

You lovely lot in the USA who are my second biggest country of readers and you have lovely accents and a lovely country which I want to go to because reasons a thankees!

You Canadian lot you with your maple syrup and your lots of islands and your beautiful patriotism against America!

A g'day (I'm so sorry) to you my lovely little nocturnal I mean Australian readers with your spiders and vegemite *retch* I would laugh if I met one of you when I visit my emigrating sister there (Sydney bitches ye~)

You Danish and Swedish lot yeah go Scandinavia! With ya pastries and ya Pewdiepie ah yissss

United Arab Emirates. I'm guessing you're a lot of different countries (I fell asleep during the Olympic ceremony oop) you are always the ones I accidentally click on when I'm looking for the UK trends on twitter! (ya know, United Kingdom, United Arab Emirates close *nods*)

Then there's my Mexican muchachos! I love fajitas and you're all probably sitting there now grinding your teeth with all the I haven't been to Mexico yet just oozing (ew) from my words…

Ma Irish lot! With ya accents and ya Moriarty and ya sdjnrefgujiegbvng fangirl I love Ireland and considering half of my family is Irish I really shouldn't fangirl as much as I am…

My Germans. My Austrians. I loVE YOUR ACCENTS TOO OH MY GOD I really want to learn German and your sausages and oh shut the fuck up Sofie excuse me c:

And you 21 people from Japan! Coolest country in the motherfudging world I mean wow its Japan oh my god

My 15 peeps (oh good god) from the Netherlands! Thanks! I had a book once which was set in the Netherlands and it was about a dyke that burst and a mans cat protected his baby in the flood and it had lovely drawings and I promise I am normal.

Czech Revar. Amazing name ya got there. I'm guessing your European and somehow related to the Czech Republic. I'm not studying Geography any more you can probably tell, I apologise (again)…

Chile! Ya long thin country down the west of South America where the Aztecs were! Is it hot there? I hate hot. Um. But you probably have a lovely country with AIR CONDITIONING WHAT A BEAUTIFUL THING we don't have that here when its hot because its hot for about 2 months then we're back in our hoodies and hats and gloves and snow and sigh so changeable…

Monacooooo! You're that really pretty country that all the famous people go because they can afford it right? Wow preeeeetttttttyyyy motherfuckers!

And la espanyol. I'm not taking Spanish any more either. I like Spain, it is sunny and I'm going to Menorca at some point next year ye~

NORWAY! Okay so I remembered (from Eurovision) that you had a pretty flag so I googled you guys and wiki says you don't use the Euro. CHOO LYINGG WIKI? Please tell me I'm intrigued now…

Greece. I had a teddy called Greece once. I left her on a tram on holiday but she was the softest loveliest bear I ever did know. I got an ear infection in Greece once. Just saying. Omg soo cultured!1!

Brrrrrazil! Like the nut. The Amazon (I typed amazing then had to go back and change it), the Jesus Christ thing, the Olympics! Seriously in 2016 your country is gonna swarm with Brazilian Brazil. And the carnival! Oh my god, it looks so pretty, big aim in life to see the Brazilian Carnival!

Iceland. Iccceeeeland. Ice Ice Iceland… okay sorry. I was talking about you to Merley the other day, she was going to become an Inuit and I was going to move to Iceland so I could use the hot water pools you have for supernoodle and hot squash purposes (there is something under the q button what qaaaAQQQQQQ)

Turkey! You 3 people from Turkey! I'm so sorry but all I can think of is Christmas dinner and that Sharpay line in high school musical oh god *facepalm*.

Polanddd! I see European, I see Warsaw, I see my friend Casper who's in my maths class who comes from Poland and taught the populars to say 'Show me your boobs' in Polish. Wow that last one wasn't the best…

And finally the lovely New Zealand! With your horrific 24 hour plane journey to see you and your so FAR AWAY OH MY GOD. Thank you. (I can't work out these stats so it's either one beautiful New Zealander or 2 beautiful New Zealanders…)

So thank you. To all of you. I get a load of emails saying blfgbiujnbredj reviewed Daydreams and Reflexes, ewaffgbgjfjn followed Daydreams and Reflexes, and all stuff like that. Do you REALISE HOW HAPPY THOSE EMAILS MAKE ME?!

Also over 3000 people have viewed Daydreams and Reflexes, which is INSANE. It's just, wow. Over 3000 people have seen my writing. Shiiiiiitttt.

As this is now the epilogue I feel I should explain about the story too.

So. Ageeeessss ago a lovely Alex Gilbert ( ThatAlexGilbert on twitter) said she'd read a crappy student and teacher phanfic, and she would have liked it if it was better written (at least I think that's what she said). So I said to myself 'Challenge Accepted' and started thinking of ideas! One came up with a lovely plot twist at the end, and I was just boiling over with combining many ideas to make what I thought was a pretty awesome story! As I worked out the basic plot I realised I needed a few OC's to keep up the storyline. I didn't want to just invent characters so herreee we go!

Merley is the first obvious one. She is my best friend ( Merley_Jedward fortune— .com) and we are both strong interneters and fangirls ( but shes going tumblr hipster ya little twat I mean silly deranged fangirl). She writes some fanfiction but never uploads them, and when I asked her if she wanted to be an OC she thought why not?!

Liam is the other main good OC. He is Merleys art teacher (whom she crushes on greatly I mean Merley come on) and considering I write a bit of personal fanfiction for her (fic slave!) I thought it'd be fun to incorporate. I don't have his consent, he's actually called Lee but before we found that out it was just L so Liam. I'm sure he won't mind being in a plot with two extremely attractive interneters bumming each other. It'll be fine!

Rhys is an OC from my life too (shocker Merley you don't know this yet). When I was 9-11 there was a chavvy little bastard (a popular if you like) in my year who had an ugly face and reminded me of a thin and lanky mouldy potato, which I thought fit Phil's bully perfectly. So thanks Rhys for unknowingly being hated internationally haha!

And do you remember Natalie and Lucia from chapter 2? Well they are actually my 2 other best friends who don't know they're in a phanfiction either, so thanks you two!

Zat is all ze OC's. Vat else? Oh yes twist. You're all probably screaming at me for breaking up Dan and Phil. So I think I should be more sorry for that than the smut as from people here it apparently went very well! Well that wasn't actually the twist. But you will have to wait for that! If you want to know what the twist is then follow or favourite this story and you'll get an email when I decide to tell you guys!

And finally (Sofie again? Yes, I need them to know! But this is like the 4th time! So? Fine go on) THANK YOU! To all of you. Especially… *moves finger across crowd* you! Yes you! You know what I mean ;). I have make at least 3 friends while writing this and received loads and loads of positive feedback from it all! But! Please don't be afraid or whatever you feel about giving me criticism about my work. For instance, in my last multi chapter fic, Staining, a guest said they like the idea but didn't think that Dan and Phil would have sex on the first night of expressing there love for each other. Sooo and you can now see from this one I escalated it slower! So thank you mysterious guest, I don't see why that wasn't obvious now :D.

So thank you so much for sticking with this long long phanfic, follow or favourite to see the twist, I promise I won't make you wait… years. I love you all and goodnight. Or good morning. If you're Australian. Oh fuck off Sofie you're such a twat. YES I STILL TALK TO MYSELF GOODBYE!

Sofie-Rose, your tired but very proud writer c:


	11. I Expect an Invitation

6 months equal 6 years. Here's your plot twist…

Phil's POV

6 years on

I pulled at my collar and shuffled awkwardly. Merley's dad nudged me to be normal.

'_Stop fidgeting!'_ he whispered, clearly stressed by this massive day. But it was still my gallery; surely I could do what I wanted? I looked across the room, my art filling every inch, and I wondered how I even got to here.

School was five years ago.

College was three.

Signing up to be represented Merley's dad was only a year ago. And now here I was, hours of my work hanging up so professionally in my first Art Exhibition.

As I daydreamed, waiting for the critics and the admirers and the passers-by to arrive, I remembered something. Something that I'd pushed out of my mind for an entire six years.

Mr Howell, my old art teacher. Without him I wouldn't be here. Not only because he taught me some of the best techniques I'd ever seen, but because around half of the artwork here was shaded in navies, dark purples and blacks. There was always one guy in those pictures, the same guy; him- obviously him. Only he could have inspired these truly depressing pieces. I guess I'd just push that discouraging information out of my mind.

I understood what he meant when he pushed me away. And I was grateful, I still am, because god knows how bad I would have let myself go if we'd been caught together and sent away.

But just because you're grateful doesn't mean you're happy.

He could have told me just a little more gingerly, we could have worked something out together, at the least he could have assessed the situation we were both in and thought 'Hey this is a bad time to bring that up, lets do serious talking later!'. Well apparently not.

Posh people in posh suits started to file in; soon they sorted themselves out into the little cliques they would assess and judge my work in. Not even ten minutes in and most of them already had little sliding magnifiers out, inspecting the brushwork. I couldn't complain though, they were paying my rent.

There were nods, frowns, snide comments, impressed faces, confused expressions and sometimes even a smile. God forbid!

Around twenty minutes in, amongst people sidling in off the street for a look around, a man stumbled through the door, obviously late, and looked around desperately before letting his eyes settle on me. His skin glowed the colour of syrup in the sunlight streaming through the glass doors behind him. His hair was the colour of chocolate, rich dark and sexy, swept to his left side perfectly. He didn't wear normal pedestrian clothes, or normal critic's clothes. He pulled them off so well it didn't seem like it. He wore a fitted white shirt with a few bright specks of paint on it, a thin black tie and black skinny jeans, accompanied by a crinkled blazer. As he realised I was staring straight back at him, his big almond eyes with the colouring so dark it merged with his pupils widened through his big, thick-rimmed yet fashionable glasses, in shock.

He fumbled with his briefcase before pulling out a name-tag (which every critic wore for fear of forgetting their own name) and fastened it on his chest.

My latest critic; Daniel fucking Howell.

He wondered around the room, looking at my work, but I couldn't help but be as angry as hell. Before anyone could stop me I stormed over to Dan, him looking professional and just as beautiful as he did six years ago, and I pulled him into a large storage room down a side corridor, the man cursing profusely as I nearly ripped his sleeve off.

'What the fuck are you doing here Dan?!' I growled at him, as menacingly as I could.

'I'm a critic now sir and I'd appreciate if I could get back to doing my job please, Mr Lester.'

Was that his voice cracking a little?

'Dan, stop fucking around now and explain!'

'Mr Lester, I have explained myself utterly and completely to you as I can, and I ask you to stop swearing in my face because you still spit a tiny bit when you say fuck. I guess six years doesn't change a man's control of his tongue.'

He said it as professionally as he could, but I could hear the tiniest tones of nostalgia in his voice. It took him less than a second to recover though and he pulled away, walking towards the door.

I desperately tried to think of something quick to make him walk back to me.

He's seconds from the door Phil, come on.

Think of something!

Are you going to let that prat walk away and never see you agai- oh… yes!

'Half of the work in that room was inspired by you Dan. So, um… just… thank you.'

He stopped dead in his tracks. '…What?'

I took my time thinking of an answer. That way I could plan what I'd say perfectly, plus Dan would be with me longer.

'I wouldn't be here if you didn't break my heart because those paintings are the ones that are selling first. The ones I painted out of rage or longing for you because I missed you too much. The ones I painted out of utter loss because when I woke up every morning from dreaming of you I could feel my dreams of you, my life with you slipping out of my ears and crashing into shards of glass, pricking my feet, dotting them red, just because I had to stand up. The ones I painted because I loathed you for running the 100m hurdles then giving up at the first blockade, if you understand that terrible metaphor.'

'If I didn't do that I would have got fired. I did get fired, because once you left for college I couldn't stand not seeing your face, so I told the head and they fired me. I'd rather get fired for openly loving you rather than quitting for private issues…'

Tears started to roll down my cheeks and I hated myself. Everytime I tried to get angry I just cried, not making me seem menacing at all.

'You still cry when you're angry?'

'You still accidentally flick paint on your shirt?'

'You still think you can survive going to sleep at 2am then waking up a 7?'

'You still hate it when someone kisses your neck?'

'You still blush when I run my tongue along your lip?'

'See for yourself…'

And he did. He was back with me in seconds and our lips connected as soon as they reached each other. Despite us both improving wildly since 6 years ago, it still felt like the first kiss we ever shared. Our mouths moved and melded to the other, working to feel each others warm skin against our own. Our muscles ached even after a few seconds of kissing, our lungs gasping for air, but us never wanting to break away. His hands clutched the sides of my arms painfully, never wanting to let go, and his nails dug in sharply; there would be little crescent shapes forming by now. I grasped his slender waist, letting my fingers play from the bottom of his shoulder blades down to the two dimples he had above his bum. I started to remember all the moments like this from all that time ago, on his desk, in his apartment, on his roof. They all pleasured me so much. Then I realised I didn't need to remember those feelings, they were lying on a plate for me right now.

Just as that thought came into my head, Dan grunted.

'Focus on the kiss, I can tell you're daydreaming…'

His tongue ran across my bottom lip, and he playfully bit it a little. As he remembered, his opened his eyes and saw my cheeks go pink. He laughed and then dived into my mouth. Our tongues danced and played, then explored the others mouth. It hadn't changed a bit since years ago. Involuntary grunts and moans escaped our lips as we pressed ourselves closer. I bit and sucked a little at Dan's lower lip, and he moaned and kissed what he could of me back.

'Ooh, you've grown into a little slut!' Dan's snicker quickly turned into a groan.

I kissed my way up his jaw and licked the shell of his ear, before nipping gently at his ear lobe.

He found my neck and started kissing and sucking and biting what his could, and I could feel bruise after bruise coming up, but I didn't care.

I felt Dan's erection press into my thigh, as mine pressed into his, and I started rutting like an animal against him when-

'…Ahem,' came the fake cough of Merley as she leant against the doorway, looking incredibly puzzled and slightly disturbed. We pulled away quickly, straightening our messed up suits and hair, and trying to hide our now suitably bruised lips. _You've matured, Lester… _ I could hear Dan's thoughts clearer than Merley's words.

'I understand that you two seem to have kissed and made up after six years of loathing each other and yourselves, and apparently made up for the lack of kissing throughout that time, but could I be blessed with a little explanation? After all, last thing I heard of Dan through Phil's mouth was 'fuck you Dan. Fuck him, fuck all of it' repeatedly as his wiped his tears on my pillowcase.'

We looked at each other to explain and Dan's gorgeous eyes convinced me to open my mouth. I didn't take my eyes away from his though.

'Dan's an art critic, I'm an artist, he explained to me briefly what happened of his six years and mine is self explanatory. We were saying sorry.' I babbled incoherently. I needed to smell Dan's same old cologne again, and Merley was not helping.

'That looked like a really heartfelt apology.' She retorted with a smile.

'He's my boyfriend, I have to apologise the way he wants to be apologised to,'

I squeezed Dan's hand telling him that I'm glad I was now his boyfriend, and the stomach butterflies came flooding in as he squeezed my hand back.

'How lovely. Well I'll tell my dad you're busy with important business and should not be disturbed,' she walked back out of the door and just before she left she added 'and when you two finally announce your wedding I expect an invitation…'

As soon as she left we were back together, moulding into each others bodies like clay.

'She's happier now, what happened?' Dan murmured from my neck.

'Dating Liam, didn't you hear?' I barely got out the words as I felt him sink down to his knees, his hands on my belt.


End file.
